For what seems like the first time in my life, I have sat down at my computer to write and not known truly what I want to say.
I could never write an exhaustive farewell to The Pacer, my home away from home. There are simply too many things to say, and, at any rate, I have never been very good at expressing emotions other than snark. I find that when a group of people, for I think of this newspaper as the people who compose it more than anything else, become so central to one’s life, there are few ways to appreciate that change. One becomes silent, pensive. I know that, in the years to come, I will look back on the warmth and sense of community that I felt at The Pacer, and, though I may not cry or even speak much, I will feel it’s passing deep in the pit of my heart.
All that is to say, this is a senior farewell with not much of a farewell, because, as I have said in my discursive way, I am not good at goodbyes. I am, however, good at recollection (when I try to be) and gratitude (by the grace of God).
I am grateful to our previous executive editors, Rachel and Sarah, the former especially. I remember I did not even intend to go anywhere remotely near journalism in my time at UTM, and it was Rachel who, recognizing me in one of our English classes as someone with a mind that cannot help but vomit up its contents and a pen that does not rest, introduced me into The Pacer, as a staff writer.
Later on, upon my elevation to the desk of Co-News Editor, I was stricken with imposter syndrome. I had never even been in a news room, much less laid out a newspaper—a real, physical newspaper. I was, I admit, somewhat intoxicated with the romance of it all, imagining myself in a cap with a comically-large “Press” card flashing in the band, burning the midnight oil to put together the next edition. I will never forget those long layout nights. It was the rest of the staff at The Pacer, current and former, with whom I have worked that made those midnight toils something to be delighted in. I will not forget them, and I am forever grateful for their companionship.
Only someone as pugnacious and as opinionated as myself, I thought, would have chosen to accept the Viewpoints desk. Which sort of puts my prospective replacement in perspective (I beg you, reader, to hear her out, as her opinions are actually well-formed). That being said, I feel that I have served the post well, and though I am, by nature, a dogged contrarian, I hope that the reader does not regard me as mean-spirited.
I am grateful, to a fault, to the University, which has made the publication and support of The Pacer possible. Lastly, I am forever grateful to Mrs. Tomi McCutchen, the faculty advisor to we brave few, who, throughout it all, was the north star for all of us. I would be, certainly less of a journalist, but even less of a man, I think, if I had not met her, been under her tutelage and partaken of her perspective.
And there are many other kindnesses that The Pacer and the people who support it have made possible that, I think, I could never name them all. So then you must forgive me, reader, for leaving you here, without a satisfying conclusion. At last all I will say is this: I have already closed many chapters in my life, but this one was, perhaps, the hardest to turn the page on yet.
